


The Art of Improvisation

by Idk0bro



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Eventual Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Fluff, Gay Zuko (Avatar), How Do I Tag, How did I forget to tag fluff, M/M, My First Fanfic, Sokka (Avatar) Being An Idiot, Sokka (Avatar) is a dumbass, Sokka (Avatar)-centric, Swords, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Zukka Week 2021, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, author might be aromantic, but hopefully you can't tell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 07:48:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30052218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idk0bro/pseuds/Idk0bro
Summary: So it appears Sokka might have a crush on Zuko. And maybe sparring with Zuko wasn't the best decision for hiding said crush, considering Sokka's obvious attraction to people who can beat his ass in a fight (see: Suki). But hey, at least he's always been good at improvisation.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 95





	The Art of Improvisation

**Author's Note:**

> Super late but: my fic for zukka week 2021, day 1: swords 
> 
> This is the first fic I’ve ever written, I hope it's not too bad! (and if it is, please suspend your disbelief for a few minutes, in the spirit of zukka week 2021 :)
> 
> Also, side note: in this fic, I'm calling the atla version of rock paper scissors “water earth fire air”, so when you see that mentioned, just know that’s what that is.

“Come on, Katara, _please_ ? If I have to sit in this infirmary for another minute, I swear to the spirits, I’ll _explode_.”

It’s been roughly two weeks since the events of Sozin’s Comet, and Sokka is _so tired_ of bed rest. He’s barely left his infirmary bed for more than ten minutes at a time, and although Zuko occupies the bed next to him and keeps him company, it’s been a boring two weeks to say the least. He’s learned more about Zuko than he’s ever known before, and in turn told Zuko things about himself that he’s never shared with anyone else, but there’s only so much trauma one can talk through before it becomes too depressing to continue. (And only so many games of _water, earth, fire, air_ you can play before realizing that Zuko always picks fire.)

Which is why Sokka is so adamant on being able to get on his feet and _do something_ again. Shifting his weight to his good leg, Sokka turns his polar cub-puppy eyes to the firebender next to him.“ We’ll be extra careful when we spar, right, Zuko?”

Zuko flushes, but Sokka knows Zuko will take his side-- which is all that matters, so Sokka really shouldn’t be thinking about how pretty Zuko looks when he blushes like that, _stop that, bad brain._

(It’s becoming more and more of a problem, lately, to control those kinds of thoughts before they accidentally reach his mouth. Or, spirits forbid, Zuko’s ears.)

“The training yard has plenty of dull wooden weapons. We’d have to use a lot of force to actually hurt someone, which won’t happen. We’ll both be fine,” Zuko agrees.

“Besides,” Sokka adds, “we’ve done nothing but lay around waiting for you to heal us for the last two weeks, and you said I had to start exercising my leg for it to get better. This is the perfect opportunity!”

Across from them, Katara’s face contorts in frustration, but Sokka can be just as stubborn as Katara, and she knows it. “Ugh, fine!” Katara concedes. “You two are even worse than Aang. Go ahead and spar, see if I care! But don’t come running back to me to heal you again when you overexert your leg. Or you!” She turns to Zuko, pointing an incriminating finger at his chest. “Don’t think I don’t know how you love to ignore your pain, just so you don’t look weak. Your lightning wound is still sensitive, and the last thing we need is you pushing yourself too hard and tangling your chi paths again!”

Sokka shifts closer to Zuko in a futile attempt to block him from Katara’s scolding. “We know, Katara,” he soothes. “If we get tired, I promise we’ll stop and come right back here.” Sokka feels a little guilty at the lie, but he wasn’t exaggerating when he said he’d combust if he had to stay still a minute longer. The war may be over, but there’s still so much to do, and every time Sokka thinks about it he’s filled with a restless sort of anxiety that he knows only exercise can dissipate. “We’ll be fine.”

Katara just throws her hands up in a universal sign of defeat and stalks away, mumbling under her breath. Sokka thinks he catches the words “boys” and “so stupid”, but graciously chooses to ignore it. 

“Come on, Zuko,” Sokka urges, limping only slightly as he makes his way to the training courtyard, Zuko following closely behind. 

__________________

  
  


Late morning sunlight filters into the courtyard, dappling the gray stone in shades of pale yellow. The space is big enough to accommodate several dozen komodo rhinos with ease, yet Zuko moves through the courtyard with a kind of confidence that only comes from spending so much time within a space that you know it inside and out. On his way to the training swords, he remarks, “I can’t believe you actually convinced Katara to let us spar.”

Sokka grins. “If there’s one thing I’ve gotten good at over the years, it’s convincing Katara to let me do things without her approval.” As he heads over to the racks himself, he adds, “and more recently, convincing her to heal me afterwards.”

At that, Zuko chuckles. Sokka studiously ignores the warmth that bubbles in his chest at the sound. _Not the time, Sokka. Get it together._

“Too bad I don’t have my space sword anymore,” Sokka laments as Zuko pulls out two wooden dao from the rack. 

Zuko smirks, tossing Sokka wooden jian. “Not like it would have saved you from my dual dao anyway.” 

Sokka gasps, mock-offended. “I’ll have you know, that sword was made from a one-of-a-kind, unique space metal that can cut through almost anything!” 

Zuko snorts, amused. That’s fine, Sokka will just have to show him later, when he gets his space sword back. (Because he will get it back, _he will_ . It can’t be gone forever, it _has_ to be in the earth kingdom somewhere. He just has to find it somehow. It’s fine, he’s the plan guy, he can do it. Don’t panic, everything’s fine!)

“Where did you even forge a sword like that?” Zuko’s question rips Sokka from his spiraling thoughts. Zuko thankfully doesn’t notice the shaky breath Sokka takes, facing away from Sokka as he begins some stretches. 

“Actually, I got it forged in the fire nation, by a master swordsman named Piandao,” Sokka says, hoping his voice isn’t shaky from the remnants of his near panic attack. 

Zuko suddenly straightens, and Sokka thinks he’s detected the tremor in his voice and is going to ask what’s wrong -- but instead, Zuko just turns around and says,“No way, Piandao was my master too. Small world.” He smiles fondly, clearly remembering some memory from when he was a student under the swordmaster.

Sokka exhales, relieved. “Yeah. I only got to spend a few days with him, but I still remember most of the stuff he taught me. ‘Just as the imagination is limitless,’” Sokka begins in his best Piandao voice --

“‘--So too are the possibilities of the sword,’” Zuko finishes, grinning. At the smile, Sokka’s breath catches for an entirely different reason, and for a second Sokka can only stare, overwhelmed by the urge to kiss the smile off the other boy’s lips. But then reflex kicks in, and Sokka schools his expression in a smile to match Zuko’s, lest his crush get revealed. “If we both had the same mentor, then this should be interesting,” Zuko says, returning to his stretches. 

Thankfully having recovered from his earlier… _thoughts_ , Sokka replies, “don’t sound so sure. I’ve been known to improvise when the situation calls.”

“Oh yeah?” Zuko challenges, having finished his stretches. He sinks into a low stance, a dao held in each hand, looking unfairly attractive for someone who would be aiming for Sokka’s throat in just a few seconds. Too late, Sokka realizes all the reasons why this is a terrible idea for his poor, poor crush. 

“Let’s see what you’ve got, then.” 

__________________

Late morning has shifted into mid afternoon, and Sokka refuses to quit, even though he’s yet to win a single match. At the start of their sparring, Sokka had been confident in his abilities to come up with a plan on the spot and out-strategize his opponent. Of course, his self-assurance hadn’t accounted for one key detail: Zuko liked to spar shirtless. Sokka can’t stop staring, and it’s definitely a problem. Especially as Zuko hits the back of Sokka’s good knee with his remaining dao (the other having been swiped away from Zuko in a rare bout of skill from Sokka), making Sokka crumple immediately. Though Zuko is mindful of his bad leg, pressing the flat edge of his dao to Sokka’s back in an attempt to soften his fall somewhat, Sokk’s breath is still knocked out of him as he hits the ground — though maybe that’s more because of Zuko’s proximity than the force of his fall.

In one smooth motion, Zuko knocks Sokka’s jian out of his hands with a swipe of his wrist before straddling Sokka and pinning his arms above his head with his free hand. Sokka is powerless to stop Zuko, too distracted by the other boy’s proximity -- and since when did Zuko have _abs_? This was just unfair, the universe must really be out to get Sokka -- as Zuko pants, “do you yield?” 

At that, Sokka snaps to attention, eyes shooting to Zuko’s (and only hitching for a millisecond on his lips. _Ha, take that, brain, Sokka could totally pay attention if he wanted to_.) Sokka hates to admit it, but as he runs through the scenarios in his head, there’s not a thing he can do to get the upper hand again -- except… 

There is _one_ thing he can do, one final plan he can enact, one more desperate improvisation he can make. Sokka is determined to win at least once today. So, he does the only logical thing to do when being straddled by one’s former-enemy-turned-best-friend who sort-of kind-of maybe might also be his crush: Sokka lunges forward and kisses Zuko squarely on the mouth. He only has to travel a short distance, thankfully, but his arms still tug painfully against Zuko’s hands as he closes the short distance between their faces -- and then Sokka can think of nothing at all except the incredible feeling of Zuko’s lips against his. 

As expected, Zuko’s grip goes slack with surprise, and Sokka thrills at his genius (and also because wait, Zuko’s kissing him back, could this mean -- but wait, he has a plan to carry out, he can wonder about that later). In one fluid motion, Sokka rolls them over so that Zuko is now pinned under him, reluctantly breaking the kiss as he grabs his now-within-reach sword and slides it just above Zuko’s throat. Sokka grins down at Zuko’s flustered expression, euphoric from the adrenaline from their match and the tingling in his lips. “I win,” he says.

Zuko remains silent underneath him, looking shocked -- and oh shit, did Sokka go too far? But Zuko had kissed back, hadn’t he? Or was Sokka just imagining Zuko’s reciprocation because it was what he had wanted to have happen? He knew Zuko broke up with Mai a while ago -- he himself had broken up with Suki shortly after Sozin’s Comet, both of them wanting to wait and see what peacetime would bring -- but what if Zuko wasn’t ready for another relationship like that? Oh, spirits, _what if Zuko doesn’t even like guys_? Sokka scrambles to get off of the other boy. “Shit, I’m sorry, Zuko--”

But before Sokka can say another word, a hand whips out to wrap around the back of his neck, and suddenly Zuko’s lips are back on Sokka’s, Zuko clutching tight at the back of Sokka’s head. Sokka hardly dares to let himself hope, almost afraid to ask what this could mean, but he has to say _something_ , has to make sure he didn’t accidentally hit his head too hard when he fell and hallucinate this entire thing -- so for the second time today, Sokka finds himself reluctantly pulling away from Zuko’s lips. 

“Zuko -- wait,” Sokka gasps, head still reeling. “Wait. I -- I need you to know, before we continue, that I like you a lot. Like, _a lot_ a lot. Like, _I’ve been wanting to do this the entire time_ , a lot. So I need to know--” he takes a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever the answer may be -- “do you -- like me too?”

Zuko sighs, and Sokka’s heart plummets into his stomach -- but then Zuko’s saying, fondly, “Sokka, you dumbass.” And now he’s pulling Sokka down by the back of the neck a second time, and Sokka’s never been kissed like this before, with so much _enthusiasm_ , and just a second ago Sokka was so sure he was about to be rejecting but now he’s kissing Zuko -- no, _Zuko’s_ kissing _him_ \-- that all of Sokka’s relief spills out of him and all he can do is laugh into Zuko’s mouth. 

Zuko pulls back, looking only slightly offended, and asks, “what’s so funny?”

“I just can’t believe this is actually happening. I can’t believe my improvising actually worked!” Sokka says, unbelievably giddy, and giggles against Zuko’s mouth. 

And now Zuko is laughing too, and Sokka wants to bottle the sound and never let it go, but settles for pulling Zuko into another kiss instead, reveling in the fact that he can just _do that_ now. They’re both still sweaty from sparring, and Sokka’s leg is starting to ache again, and he has to be extra careful not to accidentally jab Zuko’s lightning wound, and the moment isn’t nearly as romantic as Sokka imagined their first kiss would be. 

But he can’t for the life of him think of a single place he’d rather be. 

(And if that’s how Katara finds them, minutes or hours later, swords abandoned and still giggling at each other’s lips, then Sokka still wouldn’t give it up for the world.)

**Author's Note:**

> Seeing as this is my first time posting on ao3, there will probably be mistakes in my work (aka im not confident in anything i'm doing so i dont know if everything is happening as it should be). If you spot any mistakes, let me know and i'll try my best to correct them!


End file.
